


A Well Concealed Secret

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Genderbending, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:24:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Big brother?" England inquires. </p><p>Scotland's presence returns to her, his eyes focusing solely on her."What, England?" he whispers, voice cracking. </p><p>"If I'm going to be your little brother, will you still love me?" she asks, meekly staring at her toes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Well Concealed Secret

The messy blond whimpers, taking a step away from the large man; who is approaching her. Her green eyes glisten as the man gives something akin to a smile as he reaches for her. "Please.." She begs, wanting him to stop. Suddenly, she trips on the hem of her slightly too large cloak and falls onto her back. The man gives a deep chuckle and swipes at her feet. The little blond hurries back and against a tree; she freezes, knowing she is cornered.

She squeezes her eyes close, hoping her death will be quick. She bites back a shriek as the man lifts the end of her cloak. What's he doing? Why hasn't he gone for her throat? Or head? Is he going to slice her open and take out her intestines? The blond clenched her jaw, not wanting to give the man any sanctification from her death. His hand ghosts over body as if searching for something and then it begins to go south once more; just as it began to rest on her thigh the man gave a wounded scream as he fell to the left of her.

Rough hands grabbed her, yanking her up. "Did that bastard touch ya England?" A voice, Scotland, she realizes; snarled.

England peaked an eye open. "Well, sort of, but he was going to slice me open and take my insides so..." England murmurs, looking to the man's prone body.

Her brother was pale, he shakes his head and brings her close. "England, England, my sister.." He whispers into her hair. England can't help but squirm, her brother isn't one to coddle; especially his younger siblings.

"What big brother?" England mumbles, curling her little fingers into his dirty clothing.

"He wasn't going to take yer insides, sister, he was goin' to rape ya" Scotland answers, voice small and wavering.

England lifts her head, her orb like green eyes confused. "Rape?" She questions.

Scotland sighs, eyes taking on a saddened hue. "Ai, it's when a person invades someone's vital regions." He answers, facing taking a slight pink tinge.

"Why would someone do that?" England asks, her voice thick and heart heavy.

Scotland only held her tighter and shook his head. "We need to find Wales and Ireland." He tells her and without waiting for an answer begins to tug her along. They dodge around trees and bushes, not stopping until they come upon her two other older brothers waiting by a waning fire. Ireland looks up his thick brows furrowed. "Where-" The redhead stops abruptly, taking in his brother's solemn face. "What happened?" He inquires toying with the edge of his tunic.

"A man" Scotland spits, "Tried to rape England." He finishes and unmistakable edge coming to his voice.

Wale's mouth drops. "She's so young.." he whisper already pale face becoming even more so. England's green orbs follow her brothers conversation nervously, a feeling in the pit of her stomach telling her something big is coming. Ireland eyes England critically, his own forest green eyes taking on an unfamiliar glint.

"Sister, come." He calls. With unsure steps she comes to stand in front of her older brother. He tugs a knife from his hilt and grabs a fistful of her hair; in one deft move he cuts it.

"What are ya doin'?" Scotland screeches.

Ireland scowls. "Turning our little  _sister_  into our little  _brother._ "

A frown morphs onto Wales normally pleasant face. "Wha-" But, abruptly stops his mouth taking the shape of an o. England stood frozen, confused and fearing what might happen if she was to object. Ireland's gaze turns kind.

"Don't worry sister, we're makin' sure ye'll be safer. Ye won't have ta worry about being raped so much." He tells her, gently playing with a still long lock.

"So much?" England breathes, uncertain of what he means. Ireland nods, his eyes piercing.

"They try ta rape boys sometimes too, just-just make sure  _nobody_  ever goes near yer vital bits without permission." The redhead explains, stare averting from hers. England gives a small nod and lets her eyes flicker behind to Scotland. His face is stony, eyes far off in a land not present and his hands clenched at his side in rage filled fists.

"Big brother?" England inquires. Scotland's presence returns to her his look focusing solely on her.

"What England?" He whispers, voice cracking.

"If I'm going to be your little brother will you still love me?" She asks, meekly staring at her toes. Not daring to glance up as he answers her. Suddenly, she is enveloped in three pairs of arms.

A warm breath murmurs into her ear. "Of course England, you'll always have us; little sister or little brother." This promise echos in her ears, filling her with a warmth she will not feel again for centuries. Not until she meets a little boy with endless sky blue eyes and a smile as cheery as the sun.

Tears welling in her eyes she gives a small sob, clinging to the bigger arms that cradle her; kissing her brothers wherever she can. She does not know this will be one of the last times for a very long time she and her brothers will be on the same side or together just loving each other as a family;or that this would be the greatest gift they would ever give her.

XxXxX

It's centuries past that day since she was a child in that little clearing with her older brothers as they taught her in the way of being man. The second World War is finally over and for a reason she can not understand England feels giddy and optimistic. It's as if she knows a relative peace will reign for years and years as if it's finally safe to trust others. Grinning, England hobbles up from her bed; hardly minding the injuries that litter her body.

Step by step she wobbles to her kitchen, where she hears Wales puttering about. Coming into the little room she is breathing heavy, but it does not lessen the lightness of her heart. "Wales.." She whispers, drawing her brunette brother's attention. Wales glances over and his eyes grow. At her side withing a moment, he takes her into his arms cursing quietly.

"What are you doing England? You should be in bed!" He hisses at her. England only smiles.

Ignoring her brother's concern, England questions. "Do you miss your sister?"

"What?" Wales sputters, moss green eyes tinged with worry and fear.

"Do you miss having a sister?" England demands, staring straight into the man's eyes.

"I-I" Wales stammers, eyes flashing with indecision and confusion. "No" Wales finally answers. But, England smiles; having caught the tell tale of her brother lying in the twitch of his eye.

"Too bad for you, she's coming back." England says, falling into a fit of giggles.

Wales gapes. "E-England!" He yelps struggling to maintain his steady grip of her. England only laughs harder, knowing Wales lithe body is hardly larger than hers and can not hold them both steady.

"Your sister's coming home, brother!" England shouts giddy; throwing her arms around wildly. England doesn't even mind the pain when they both topple to the ground, she's simply too  _ecstatic_ about being herself again to care.

XxXxX

It's the World Meeting and America is hosting. It starts like most any meeting, nations are conversing and bickering while everyone arrives. America comes into the room in a rush yelling quite loudly that he is here and it's time they start. This is when someone begins to comment on several missing nations, when a slender blond with emerald green orbs walks into the conference room; flanked by two redheads and a brunette trailing behind. There's a slight upward tilt to her lips; as if she know an amusing joke or secret. They watch as she approaches the Representative of England's seat. She pauses, then sits down it. The room is unfathomably silent, before someone, France; smiles and say in a pleased way "I  _knew_  I was not mistaken." He tells the woman. She smiles at him, her eyes lighting up.

"No, you weren't." She answers giving a little shake of her head.

" _Sooo_ _mon lapin_  'ow do you like wearing panties?" He purrs.

The woman's eye twitches, but she answers coolly "Quite well, but I must ask you to refrain from any other lewd questions. I do not believe my brothers will take well to them." This is when the room's eyes moves back to the three men surrounding the woman, they are all fuming and the two smaller ones are holding back the largest.

France laughs. "Can't fight your battle anymore  _Angleterre_?"

The woman shoots up from her seat and begins to scream bloody murder at France and this is when the room falls into a roar of questions and shouting. But, all he can do is sit back and stare at the small woman and wonder how the  _hell_  he never once realized his former caretaker could have been a woman.


	2. Suspicions

The waves lap at his leather covered feet as he stares out into the Channel and then he looks up at the blue sky. It's been quite a while since France last saw his  _petit_   _Angleterre,_  he wonders how she is doing. "I think I shall visit 'er." He decides wandering away from the water to find someone who will indulge him with a trip in their boat to the little island on the other side of The Channel.

XxXxX **  
**

When he steps onto the little island he immediately heads for the woods where he know his fellow nation enjoys playing in. As he meanders through it he periodically calls out " _Angleterre!_ " and " _Mon lapin!_ " Just as France is going to give up and call it a day when the sunlight begins to recedes, a bush behind him ruffles. Swiveling around he catches sight of a messy blond head. Grinning, France jumps at the bush with a cry of " _Angleterre!_ "

"France!" The child squeals, from beneath him. France laughs and then peers down at the child to see something strange. No longer is her hair shoulder length and instead of the little gown he last saw her in, she wears a pair of breeches and peasant shirt beneath her little cloak. Getting off the little girl he frowns as he pulls her up along with him.

"What 'ave you done? You look like a boy!" He exclaims as he frets over her new appearance. Just as one of his hands reach to touch her new short locks a tiny hand bats it away.

"I  _am_ a boy!" She huff crossing her arms in annoyance, but France does not miss the way her gaze flickers away from his at the confession.

France snorts. Grabbing a hold of her hand he fully intends to find her brothers and tell them just what their sister has done to herself. "Where are your brothers? Do they know what you've done to your 'air?" He grumbles.

"NO!" England shrieks yanking away from France.

"What's wrong  _Angleterre_?" He asks upon seeing how the little girls body begins to tremble.

"I...I don't want to see  _them_ " she hisses. "They're a bunch of jerks! Scotland shot arrows at me and Ireland sent curses at me and-and Wales...!" The child then began to wail. "I-I  _HATE_  th-them!" She sobs falling to her knees. Alarmed, France brings the littler nation into his arms and begins to run his hand through her new choppy locks.

"It's alright, shh..." He murmurs.

"I don't even know what I did  _wrong_!" She snuffles into his neck. Something in France pangs; he thinks he knows and it doesn't have anything to do with the little girl herself, but her nation. France sighs and holds her tighter, all nations fight and their peoples' sentiment affects their nations turning brother against brother, causing a father to murder their child and makes friends into foes.

"Nothing, you did nothing  _beau_." He mumbles, comforting the younger child as best he can.

Wiping away tears, England looks up at France with red rimmed eyes. "I'm a boy. They aren't  _beau._ " She sneers.

France laughs and kisses her head. "Whatever you wish  _mon_ _Angleterre._ " If she wants to be a boy, who is France to stop her?

XxXxX

Things are quickly souring between France and England, but he can't help the urge to see her one last time before everything goes to hell. Finding himself a ship he takes it across The Channel, when his feet touch the English beaches he quickly spots a head of messy blond hair. Grinning, he races toward the younger teenager. " _Angleterre!_ " He calls hand lifting to wave. The little figure spins around her thick brows bunched together unattractively.

"Oi! What are you doing here you wanker!" She screams, an accusing finger raised in his direction. France sniffs pathetically and throws himself on the young teenager.

"Can't I come see  _mon lapin_  whenever I wish?" He implores, jutting his lip out in a mock pout. The younger nations face flares red and her lips pull back into a toothy sneer.

"Why the hell would I want to see  _you_  when we're on the verge of  _war_?" She growls shoving France away. France hums in mock contemplation before once again trying to wrap his arms around the island nation.

"Because you shall miss me?" He tells her.

"Get off me! People are staring!" She hisses, trying to pull away.

"They wouldn't if you stopped pretending to be an ill-tempered boy." He comments his hands running down her developing hips.

The girl jolts and yanks herself away from him. "W-What the hell are you talking about Francis?" She stammers eyes wide and frightened.

France plants his hands on his hips and smirks at the girl. "Please  _England_  you might 'ave convinced everyone else, but I know the truth." He tells her.

England's eyes flash. "You bastard!" She screeches, shoving him. "Get the hell away from me! You frog!" She screams at him. France glowers and throws himself at her again, but she dodges.

"C'mon  _Angleterre~_  I was only teasing you!" France whines, but the girl does not turn back she continues to stomp away disappearing from sight. France sighs and brushes a strand of hair back behind his ear. "Well,  _that_  went well." He grumbles to himself as he leaves for his boat.

XxXxX

"Do you really think you can 'ide it from the  _efants_? What 'appens when they 'ave nightmares and sneak into your room to sleep with you  _Angleterre_?" France frowns, tapping his foot in frustration.

"What are you talking about?" England scowls holding one of the slumbering her new brothers to her chest.

France snarls at her. "You know  _exactly_ what I'm talking about!" He nearly shouts. England glares at him when the child in her arms snuffles, but she easily quiets him and the boy relax in sleep once more.

"Are you still going on about that? Look, I'm  _not_ a bloody woman!" He growls at France.

France rolls his eyes. Just how long did she plan to keep up this charade? "Prove it." He demands. England splutters and her eyes grow huge in disbelief.

"You want me to  _strip_? My  _god_  Francis! I'm a  _gentleman_  not some-some...vagabond!" England shrieks, on the verge of hyperventilating. The toddler in her arms whimpers and England quickly moves to rock the little colony before he can awake.

France huffs and crosses his arms. "I'm not asking you to do it on the  _street_   _Angleterre_. Just 'ere, in your 'ome." He tells her.

"No, I won't stoop to your level." England sniffs, turning her head away. He can't believe her! So  _stubborn_!

France clenches his jaw in frustration and snarls through a barrier of teeth. "Fine! Don't try to rope me into explaining when one of the  _efants_  catches you unprepared." He warns, stomping out the door.

"Nobody's caught on yet and a bloody child will  _certainly_  not be the one to out me." England mumbles once France is gone. Playing with a stray strand of her new baby brother's hair she muses "Though, I  _do_  wonder why France has refrained from doing so." Smiling down at the toddler England says "Maybe he's not that bad after all."

XxXxX

France's eyes glitter at the sight of the slight woman surrounded by three men as she walks into the room.  _Finally!_ He thinks. He waits until she is settled in her seat in front of him to speak. He smirks in victory at her."I  _knew_ I was not mistaken." He tells the woman.

She smiles at him, her eyes glinting with edges. "No, you weren't." She answers giving a little shake of her head.

" _Sooo_ _mon lapin_  'ow do you like wearing panties?" He purrs, hoping to rile her up.

The woman's eye twitches, but she answers coolly "Quite well, but I must ask you to refrain from any other lewd questions. I do not believe my brothers will take well to them." This is when the rest of the room's eyes moves back to the three men surrounding the woman, they are all fuming and the two smaller ones are holding back the largest.

France laughs. "Can't fight your battle anymore  _Angleterre_?" He bites. she shoots up from her seat and begins to scream curses and insults at him, France settles back a fine grin on his face. _Good,_ nothing has changed.


End file.
